Angelina and the Thief
by Fromthebottomofthepit
Summary: The sequel to Meg Cabot's books 'Nicola and the Viscount' and 'Victoria and the Rogue', with a new main character. Angelina has lived with her grandparents in Paris since the death of her parents. Now she's sixteen, returning to London and her older brother's care. A series of robberies, a striking young Lord, and her brother's obnoxious friend promise to make her return special.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I love Meg Cabot's regency books and wish she would write more. This is my idea for a third book. It follows the same basic format as the other two books. Orphan + love triangle. 'Nicola and the Viscount' and 'Victoria and. The Rogue' belong to Meg Cabot.**

Chapter 1: London, 1811

"Hmph, you should have told me I'd need a second carriage, Angie." The Earl of Newgriffin, Lord James Harper, said. "I had no idea anyone could own this much stuff. I'm surprised you didn't shop our grandparents out of house and home."

Miss Angelina Harper glared at her brother icily, quite put out by his -it seemed - constantly negative attitude. "This is no more than any young debutante in Paris has," She sniffed.

Her brother just shook his head at her in his usual manner. "We aren't in Paris," James said, as he directed the train attendants in strapping Angelina's various trunks to the carriage. "And I'm starting to wish I'd come taken you from the silly place sooner."

Angelina winced as her trunk of hats and hair ornaments was thrown carelessly by the train attendants, resisting the urge to snap at them for their roughness. "Paris is far from silly, James," Angelina scolded. "It's a beautiful city of exquisite food, music, passion. Oh, don't roll you're eyes, brother. It's full of excitement and mystery and...well, it isn't hard to feel London is so very dull in comparison."

"I very well hope so, you need a great deal of dullness in your life, Angelina " Lord Harper said authoritatively, "and I intend to have you a sensible creature before the year is out. Prepare to be bored un-silly, sister."

Angelina gawped in an unladylike manner at her brother, as the two climbed into the carriage at last. "You can't be serious!" She finally sputtered. "You won't be that dreadful, will you?"

"I will be as dreadful as I please." James answered dryly as they rode along, his leg room was constricted by a trunk that had been shoved on the carriage floor, and he wasn't pleased about it. "Until you leave some of that silly mindset of yours behind. Damn trunk!"

Angelina ignored her brother's curse and threats, their conversations were often like this - him chastising her for what he called silliness and she called a pleasant affinity for the dramatic. What Angelina's stoic, book-bread brother simply didn't realize was that Angelina was a full-blooded romantic in the way only someone who had been living in Paris for as long as she had could be. She addressed her brother seriously, "I am not silly, James. I'm a grown woman now, so you see it is perfectly unacceptable for me to be babied by you so. And Grand-mere and Grand-pere are all well and good, but I might as well have raised myself. It's been six years since Mother and Father died, yet you still act as though I'm the child I was when I left!"

"I beg to differ," James said plainly. "You had a good deal more sense back then, before all these notions..."

"Why, I went to loads of parties back in Paris, and I know the most fashionable people." Angelina continued without acknowledging her brother, "Why, I was even allowed to drink as I wished, though I would never drink more than a glass - see? I am sensible!"

Angelina felt quite proud of herself for thinking of this, surely James couldn't argue that she was silly after hearing this. And while Paris had been full of scandals and love affairs, Angelina had never been the topic of such gossip (no matter how much she might have wanted to be). La! What fun Paris would have been, now that she was sixteen. Something told Angelina that London wasn't as fresh with fantastic drama as Paris was.

"You will let me have some fun, won't you James? I'll simply die if I won't have anything to tell my friends back...in Paris." Angelina mentally kicked herself, she had almost said back home instead of back in Paris. She may have lived in Paris for six years, but she knew how it would hurt her brother if she considered anywhere but the houses - the estate and London house - they had shared with their parents home. And, despite their bickering, Angelina was happy she would be with her brother again, in the house they had been children in.

Thinking this, she tucked her arm around his affectionately. "I'm sure you won't let me parish in your attempt to turn me into a sensible woman, for you would be lost without being able to scold me at every available moment!" She said, without any malice.

"Hm, we'll see how I feel after you've caused trouble," James said, as they pulled up to the pleasant house Angelina remembered from childhood. He leaped out eagerly, then turned to help her. "which you will, it's inevitable."

"I take offense at that!" She exclaimed, though both siblings knew that she didn't. "I can't believe how good the house looks. It almost looks new! What on earth does the inside look like? You told me you had fixed it up, but I guess I couldn't imagine it...I'm sorry, I'm being rude, aren't I?"

"I don't blame you." Lord Harper said, looking over the outside of the house alongside his younger sister, he was also remembering the somewhat uncared for, and not very welcoming, the house had been for most of their childhood. "Come on in, you'll want to see what the inside looks like. That's where the real improvement is."Angelina, brushing aside the odd feelings she had from being invited into what had been her home, followed her brother in. James had, of course, not been lying. The. London home they had shared with their parents had been in poor shape, the last time Angelina had seen it. The poor state of the house, in this case, had been because of a poor state of affairs for the Harper family. The former Lord and Lady Harper had been happy, loving people, but very bad with finances. But, in the end, that hadn't mattered, they died side by side, in an accident. Angelina sighed at the romanticism of it all.

"What do you think?" James asked, he seemed to be studying her expression. "I know it's not very... feminine."

Angelina didn't really mind that the house did have some qualities of the home of a single man. It had its own, unique appeal. And Angelina preferred the musky, paper-like scent of the house to the overly sweet perfumed scent of her grandparents home. She realized that, this time, she had unconsciously distanced herself from Paris just by seeing her old home. She looked back at James, who was watching her with what could only be described as a nervous expression. A wave of affection swept over her and she threw her arms around him.

"Don't worry, James," Angelina comforted him, grinning, as he simply looked surprised, "I am happy to be home, really!"

"Of course you are," James conceded, looking less sure of himself than usual, "I wasn't worried in the slightest. Now, I believe that you should make sure your maid puts all your things away properly while I see about dinner."

Angelina nodded, quite sure that her brother had simply been embarrassed, and went to do exactly as he had said. After some frustration on her and her new maid's part, all of her things were properly sorted out. And she was free to go in search of her brother and see how dinner was coming. Wandering about, Angelina found she remembered the layout of the house nearly perfectly. She took a detour from finding her brother to go into her mother's sitting room, a pleasant little parlor that overlooked the street. This room looked untouched, Angelina noted, quite pleased. She was distracted from reviewing the room further by the rapping sound that Angelina instantly recognized as a knock on the front door. She looked out the window curiously, to spot the visitor. At the precise moment she looked down, the figure at the door looked up. Angelina breathed in sharply, as she and the man below her locked eyes. There is an angel at my front door, was all she could think. Paris was full of handsome men, so it wasn't as if Angelina had no experience with attractive members of the opposite sex,, but the thin, somewhat effeminate, Parisian men couldn't hold a candle to the man she was looking at now.

_La_, she thought in French, _Il est tres beau_.

His shoulders, wide enough to embarrass any Frenchman, held his perfect head and neck. Blonde curls - a lovely, golden, blonde - framed his face. His eyes, from this distance, were simply blue. But Angelina knew that up close they would be a clear, crisp blue. He had a pair of angular cheekbones that Angelina suspected would be pleasant to trace. His nose was not quite straight, as if it might have been broken at some point.

The idea made Angelina's heart pound vividly.

Then, he was gone. He had come in, she supposed. Then it struck her, that lovely creature was here, in her house. Completely forgetting that she probably looked a fright - she had just gone from boat to train to carriage today, and hadn't cleaned herself up. No, at that moment Angelina wanted nothing more than to meet the golden-haired stranger. So, she practically ran down the stairs.

**A/N: So, there it is! Chapter 1! Please read and review! **

**P.S. I know that in the original books the heroines met the blonde crushes before the story started, but that didn't really make sense with this story line. Sorry!**

**If you review, please tell me what you think about Angelina, and James! More characters are coming, but I want to know what everyone thinks about them! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter 2! **

**Also, I hope you noticed that the year stated last chapter was 1811, while Nicola and Victoria's books were set in 1810. This just makes it easier for me to incorporate some cameos or even larger appearances if I want to. Thoughts on characters that should show up? Or not?**

** Please Review after reading, and enjoy! I do not own any of Meg Cabot's works, however all of the characters thus far are my own.**

Chapter 2

Flying down the stairs in order to meet the handsome stranger, Angelina wasn't at all prepared to see him as she nearly ran into him, which would have resulted in them both toppling over. Luckily, she grabbed hold of the handrail just in time and stopped on the very first step of the staircase, not a foot from the blonde-haired-and-blue-eyed angel.

And an angel he was. Angelina had been right, his eyes were the clearest and purest blue in the entire color spectrum when you saw them up close. What she hadn't been able to guess from a distance, however, was the way his messy curls brushed the part of neck right below his jaw in a playful, mischievous way. She also had had no previous knowledge of the full-toothed, perfectly _dashing_ smile that he fixed on her a moment after she had nearly fallen on top of him.

Angelina wished she hadn't grabbed onto the railing.

"Miss Harper," he said, slowly and smoothly. His voice had as much of a honey-like texture as his hair had a honey-like color. "Lord Westley Toulson, it's a delight to meet you."

Then, with seamless elegance, he leaned down and delicately kissed the ends of her middle three fingers. Angelina was in shock, she didn't even remember him taking her hand! And not only that, but she wasn't wearing any gloves! A man she had learned the name of not to seconds ago had kissed her bare fingers! Angelina was positively stricken, but even more than that she was positively _thrilled_.

Lord Westley Toulson didn't look altogether displeased with the situation either.

Just as Angelina finally found the breathe to open her mouth and say something to the angel, they were interrupted.

It was his coachman, alerting him to the fact that they had an appointment to make, and that another carriage was pulling in and they would need to move. She immediately hated both the person he was going to meet and whoever it was coming to see her and her brother while they had such wonderful company already. The perfect company, one might argue.

Disappointingly, Lord Toulson did not look as dismayed as Angelina felt that he had to depart so quickly. He simply nodded at her, wearing a smile that suggested he was on the verge of laughter, and strolled out with his coachman in tow. He was, Angelina thought with delight, the perfect combination of good countenance and mystery. And obviously flirtation. La! The feel of his lips still lingered on her fingers. She took the next few moments to stare at the hand in question, never having liked it more.

"Whatever are you doing, Angie?" James said, startling her out of her stupor. "You'll get in someone's way, standing right there on the stairs. Oh, I hope you don't mind I invited a friend over to dine with us."

Angelina took a step off the stairs, and was about to ask if she knew the guest in question, but didn't have a chance to. "Well, I get the welcoming committee, I see."

She felt her heart sink at the all-too familiar voice, and turned unhappily to face the man who had just strode through the door.

"No such thing, Angie was simply standing in here daydreaming until you came in." James said simply, not at all alarmed by his friends abrupt entrance. "But you're late, Cavanaugh, I believe dinner is already on the table."

"Apologies, Toulson blocked my carriage." The two moved towards the dinning room, leaving Angelina to follow behind sulkily."What was that fop doing here anyway?" Angelina almost gasped in indignation.

Angelina glared at the back of Mathew Cavanaugh's thickly haired head. The only thing thicker, she thought dryly, was his skull itself. Oh yes, this was one gentleman she was all too familiar with. When James had attended Oxford University, with a major in literature, he had met and befriended this particular pain in Angelina's side. Since then, the Honorable Mathew Cavanaugh seemed to always be around her brother. There wasn't a visit of James' that Angelina could remember where the man hadn't tagged along. He was, she suspected, the most infuriating man ever to come out of England.

That's right, England. Even his name was annoyingly deceiving. Though his name suggested Ireland, he was distinctly English. He was also conceited, opinionated, and positively irksome. And now he had the gall to call the lovely, absolutely perfect, Westley Toulson horrid things! Perhaps the most infuriating thing about Mathew Cavanaugh, though, was that when she had first met him she had reacted to him much the same way she had reacted to Lord Toulson.

Yes, Mathew Cavanaugh was attractive. If Westley Toulson was an angel, with his blonde hair and light blue eyes, then Mathew Cavanaugh was comparable to a Greek god, perhaps Zeus. With his fierce, commanding, and mountain-strong appearance. The tallest and broadest shouldered gentleman Angelina had ever met, he was built like an athlete, or a working man, rather than a well-to-do gentleman. His ridiculously thick but neatly trimmed dark brown hair and forest green eyes only served to add to the wildness of his appearance. It seemed contradictory that, as James had informed her, Mr. Cavanaugh had graduated at the top of the class at Oxford, focusing on Law and Business.

Angelina was in no hurry to try to understand the mysterious ways of Mathew Cavanaugh. In fact, it hadn't taken her long after that first meeting - where she had admittedly thought him quite handsome - for her to understand that the Englishman's personality belayed any attractive features he had. His infuriating self-confidence, stubbornness, and apparent pleasure at getting under her skin made him the last man Angelina would fall for.

It seemed, however, that Angelina would have to put up with the infuriating man whether she wanted to or not. After all, he and James were practically joined at the hip! Well, as long as he left her well enough alone, then she would do the same with him.

"Just some business involving an investment, said he wanted advice." was James' answer to the earlier question. "Though why he would ask for my advice, when he knows I was a literature major, I'm not sure. He knows plenty of people with the right background, I'd imagine." As they sat down to eat, James looked at her again, "I hope a roast is alright for your first night back, I wasn't sure what you'd want..."

Angelina grinned at her brother. How the sweet, albeit sometimes frustrating, young man had ever become friends with _une bête noir _like Mathew Cavanaugh she'd never know. She couldn't help but turn a pointed look in the person in question's direction. Only to find in surprise that he'd been looking in her direction. Almost as if he had just then noticed her presence. She bristled at the idea.

"It's excellent," she told James, who looked content with the simple answer. "Is something the matter, Mr. Cavanaugh? You seem distracted."

"Ah, forgive me, Miss Harper," Mr. Cavanaugh answered coolly, bowing his head to her slightly, "I believe I've been rather rude. How was your journey?"

She couldn't help but wonder what he was hinting at, the double-edged meaning. "Tiring, I'm afraid, I rather feel as though it should probably retire early, lest I fall asleep right her at the dinner table!" Angelina wasn't that tired, but bed sounded like a pleasant alternative to spending more time in her brother's best friend's company.

"Don't be silly." Angelina glared at the man, who grinned at her in a manner that immediately told her that he had called her bluff. "Stay here, who else would inform us on all of the latest French gossip? I hope you're not getting into trouble."

"I am not sure what you're implying,_ Monsieur_." Angelina said airily, sure that he was simply teasing her, "I don't attract trouble."

James raised his eyebrows at this, but if he was going to say something then it was lost. Mr. Cavanaugh had thrown his head back to laugh boisterously. "Maybe not," he said, after his laughter subsided, "but trouble does attract _you _- _Mademoiselle_ Harper."

And that was why Angelina Harper hated Mathew Cavanaugh. That condescending confidence in everything that came out of his mouth. He took no time at all to try and converse with her civilly, only criticized her as if it were the most simple, natural thing in the world. While Angelina and James often bickered, and James very often picked on Angelina's romanticism, it was suitable because they were brother and sister. Angelina had no connection with Mathew Cavanaugh other than her brother's friendship with him. His frankness was completely unsuitable and inappropriate considering this relationship. She did not recall this interfering person being her relation, like James was.

"And what if it does?" Angelina asked in a clipped tone, because she was very afraid of coming across as though she cared what he thought. "A little bit of excitement never hurt anyone."

"Why, you're more of a child than I gave you credit for!" Mr. Cavanaugh said. "James, you must lock your sister up, before her desires come to life."

"A child?" Angelina made a face that her brother and his friend could only have described as indignant. "I would have you know that I am not seven years your junior. And I would remind you that it is not your business to regulate me, nor is it to advise my brother on how to do so."

"Well, now," James said calmly. "I believe we've all had enough to eat this evening, perhaps you should head to bed, Angie. Wouldn't you like to get that book I promised, Cavanaugh? I believe I left it in my study. Not sure where I put it, exactly, though..."


End file.
